


It's Too Late To Apologize

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bruises, Caretaking, Comfort, Cuts, Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, F/F, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Rowena, Injury, Kissing, Lucifer is a Little Shit, Rowena Whump, Torture, Tortured Rowena, Welts, Whump, Worried Reader, Wounds, protective Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: After Lucifer tortures Rowena, it’s up to reader to take care of her.





	It's Too Late To Apologize

Getting into arguments with Rowena wasn't a common occurrence, but when it did happen, it wouldn't take long for one of you to start missing the other, give a heartfelt apology, seal the make up with a kiss, and curl up on the couch to watch a horror movie of your choice. Rowena wasn't a fan, but she watched scary movies for you, knowing how much you loved them.    

Hours had gone by and when Rowena didn't return home, you decided to call to tell her how sorry you were. You shouldn't have gotten so angry and told her you'd be better off without her. No matter how stubborn she had gotten, you never should have let her walk out the door without turning back.    

Clenching your fists in frustration as your fifth call went unanswered, you took a deep breath for composure. It was attitude that pushed her away in the first place. If you wanted her back, you needed to show her you regretted your words.    

"Hey, sweetheart. It's me. Look, I… I'm sorry for saying those things. You have every right to be angry, but, please, just hear me out. I didn't mean what I said. I love you very much and I want you to come home. I know I fucked up. I'll spend forever making it up to you. Just, please, come back home. Or at least pick up the phone. I need to hear your voice."    

You were in tears by the time you finished the message. Putting the phone away, you went to get some snacks, thinking Rowena would return, or call, anytime now.    

She never did.    

Minutes turned into hours and soon enough it was morning. Waking up, the first thing you did was check the messages. Your face fell when you found none – no texts, no voice messages, nothing to indicate your girl had even heard the message you'd left for her.    

Chills slid down your spine, concern clenching at your heart. _She's fine,_ you told yourself in an attempt to remain calm. Something, however, told you she wasn't. Be it a sixth sense or just a general bad feeling, you _knew,_ deep in your gut, that something was very, very wrong with Rowena.    

A few hours later you left another message.    

"Rowena, please, talk to me. I'm getting worried. I know you're mad at me, but, please, just pick up the phone. I need to know you're okay. I love you!"    

You went to bed in tears that evening, sobs that overcame you making it difficult to drift off to sleep. You'd barely gotten three hours of slumber that night. Thoughts of Rowena and what could have happened swirled in your head, each worse than the previous one.    

By the time third day rolled in, you showed up at the Winchesters' doorstep in panic. Sam, who opened the door, frowned at you, confusion spreading over his face.    

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"    

"I need help," you said, taking a deep breath to push back the tears that threatened to fall. The Winchesters would fix this, you told yourself. They would help you bring Rowena back home and everything would be okay once again. "Rowena's gone missing. Please, help me find her." As soon as the last word fell from your lips, your tired eyes welled up with tears. So much for keeping them at bay. "I will owe you for the rest of my life. _Please."_     

You were surprised when he welcomed you in and led you to where Dean and Mary sat, both looking glum. "Rowena's gone missing," Sam told them in response to their inquiries about your presence. The looks on their faces were ones of dark realization.    

Everything made sense when they told you of the newest development: Lucifer was free. He was roaming about without a care in the world, searching for his monster child and creating chaos along the way. You wept as realization of their words settled in, thinking back to the time when his hands twisted Rowena's neck with ease, and then back to when he took her prisoner and did things to her she still wouldn't talk about.    

Breaking into sobs, you let Sam lead you to the nearest chair. You collapsed in it, instantly burying your face in your hands as you shook and trembled with each fallen tear. This couldn't be happening. Lucifer couldn't have taken Rowena.    

Though if he had, that would explain why the locator spell you'd attempted to cast this morning hadn't worked. No matter how mad she would be, Rowena would never cloak herself from you. She would never hide from your magic. The two of you had made an agreement never to hide from one another; the life you were leading was dangerous and you never knew when the other would need assistance.    

Taking a deep breath, you told the brothers and their mother everything that transpired between you and your girl the past few days. You told them about the argument, told them how she never called or texted back, told them about the failed locator spell that had now started to make a lot of sense.    

"Just because Lucifer's out doesn't mean he took her," Dean tried to comfort you, prompting you to wildly shake your head.    

"She would've called by now," you said, looking up into his eyes. "She would never hide from me."    

"Maybe she's still angry," Sam suggested.    

"Or maybe she's been kidnapped and tortured by a psycho archangel while I moped about in my room!" you snapped, more tears falling. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"    

"It's okay," the younger Winchester said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. "We'll help you."    

"She's the only one who can get Lucifer back in his cage," Dean said.    

So they wanted to use her. Of course. Why else would they want to help her? "If he hurt her again, I'm not letting her anywhere near him," you said firmly.     

"He didn't mean it like that," Sam said, looking from you to his brother.    

"No, it's fine. I get it. You guys don't like her. I guess I can't really blame you for it." If you were in their shoes, you couldn't honestly say you wouldn't hate her, or at least dislike her, yourself. Taking a deep breath, firmness settling into your voice, you continued: "But if he did this, I will not let you put her in danger again."    

"We'll help her because it's the right thing to do," Dean said, looking you directly in the eyes to get his point across. "Yes, we need her to put the devil back in the cage, and we're not exactly her biggest fans, but we still owe her. She's helped us twice already. It's time we return the favor."    

His words brought tears back to your eyes. "Thank you."    

"Maybe she lost her phone," Mary suddenly suggested. You've only met the woman a couple of times and hadn't gotten to know her all that well, but you appreciated her attempt at consolation.

"She would've gotten another one," you said. Your Rowena would never ignore you for this long. No matter how angry or upset or disappointed she was, she would never hurt you like this.    

"How about I call her?" Sam suggested.

You nodded, watching him as he picked up his phone and searched for Rowena's number, turning on the speaker as he pressed call. Your heart thudded nervously with each ring, nerves on fire from the anxiety. What if she doesn't answer? What if she does, and it turns out that she really didn't want anything to do with you for the time being?    

Your nervousness turned into fear when ringing stopped and a nonchalant, playful voice said: "Oh, hey, Sammy."    

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, their eyes widening, dread settling down on their faces. You didn't have to be a genius to put two and two together. The person on the phone – _Rowena's_ phone – was Lucifer.    

Anger mixed with fear as you stared at the phone in Sam's trembling hand. That monster had gotten his hands on your girl. For all you knew, she might have been dead. New tears slid down your cheeks at the thought. She couldn't be dead. Her Resurrection Seal would bring her back, right? Just like it had last time. It would bring her back and she would be as good as new and you would cuddle and laugh and watch trashy movies together just like you were used to.    

Unless Lucifer found out about it and got rid of it.    

"If you're looking for Rowena, she's a bit indisposed at the moment," the devil said condescendingly. "Which is a delicate way of saying I beat her until I got bored and now she's bleeding all over the floor. She's made quite a mess. Did you know that whipping someone's legs stops them from trying to escape? I should've done that first. Would've saved me a lot of trouble."    

"Keep your hands off her, you crazy son of a bitch!" you shouted, taking Sam's phone into your hands.    

"Oh, hi Y/N! It's lovely to hear your voice," Lucifer said, his tone playful, as if he were talking to an old friend. "Rowena loved those messages you left. _‘Please, come home. I love you.'_ So adorable!" He chuckled, mocking the sound of your voice as he repeated your words back to you. "Right, Red?" There was a thud. "Right?" Then another, a tad louder one, which was followed by a pained yelp. "She agrees."    

You swallowed back a sob that threatened to tear from your throat. How could he do that? How could anyone do that to another living, breathing person? On one hand, you were glad that she was alive. On the other, her being alive meant that she was suffering – and would keep suffering until you got her away from that monster.    

And you _would_ get her away from him. You swore it on your life.    

"You think this is funny?" you snarled, letting all the rage that had built up inside you out. You were more than aware that this wasn't the smartest course of action, but you needed him to hear everything you had to say. Nobody lays their hands on your girl and gets away with it. One time some centuries-old Grand Coven witch tried attacked her from behind. You made the coward beg for her life before serving her a death soul torturers in Hell would be proud of. Lucifer, who had hurt her much worse than that bitch, would get what's coming to him, and it will not be pretty. "Listen to me. I will rip your grace out and tear it apart! When I get my hands on you, I will make you regret the day you first laid eyes on her!"    

"She's gonna pay for that language," Lucifer said, promise clear in his voice.     

"Don't you dar–"    

He cut you off. "And for that tone, too. You hear that, Red? Your girlfriend just signed you up for another torture session. This is gonna be fun!"    

"No! Wait!" you exclaimed, immediately regretting your choice of words. You should have kept your cool. You should have remained calm instead of letting him get under your skin. He did that on purpose. He riled you up just to hurt you – and not just you. Your pain was emotional, but it was Rowena that would pay the worst price. "Please, don't hurt her. I'm sorry. Take me! Let her go and take me."

"As the song says, it's too late to apologize. And it's not you that I want, sweetheart, but nice try." He scoffed. "Lovers. So sappy." A mocking giggle escaped him. "Bye, now. I've got a toy to play with. I've neglected her long enough."    

"No! Please, I–"    

Whatever you've been meaning to say, it was too late now. He'd already hung up.    

 You didn't even try to stop the tears anymore. Lucifer was going to hurt Rowena more than he already has, and it was all going to be your fault. Why couldn't you keep your big mouth shut? Why did you have to agitate him? He'd had it in for Rowena for ages, especially since she'd sped up his vessel's decay and sent him to rot on the bottom of the ocean.   

If he did something permanent – you shuddered at the very thought – part of the blame would be on you. You could take care of a tortured Rowena. You could nurse her back to health and hold her hand through her recovery. But if he was to kill her, there was nothing you could do to reverse that. You were nowhere near as powerful a witch as she was.   

A discussion broke off, questions and suggestions of what to do and how to act going back and forth between the three Winchesters. You stayed silent for the most part, quietly crying into your hands, until you'd had enough of their bickering. Rowena was hurt, and they were busy arguing instead of doing something to help her.   

You begged them to help you rescue her. You rarely begged, and yet, now you were a moment away from falling to your knees. You could sacrifice a bit of dignity if it meant bringing Rowena home safe. You begged and pleaded and cried, telling them how much you loved her, and even reminding them of the times she'd helped them and put herself at risk to save them.   

Much to your surprise, they agreed to help. Mary was reluctant, but Sam and Dean were quick to convince her that saving Rowena was the right thing to do. They owed her, and besides, even if they didn't, they still needed her to get Lucifer back in the cage. She was more useful to the world alive than dead.   

It wasn't easy to locate the archangel with the spell (Rowena would have done it much quicker, you told yourself), but after almost an hour of trying, you finally managed to get the correct location. It appeared to be some kind of abandoned warehouse. A strange place for an archangel to hang at, but perfect for keeping a prisoner without risking discovery by nosy neighbors and passersby.

Even with the combined forces of the four of you, you were no match for Lucifer. So you agreed Sam and Dean would confront him and banish him (the sigil was painted on both their chests, in case something happened to one of them), while you and Mary snuck in through the back door and got Rowena out. The plan you coined might have been cowardly, but it was to save your girl's life. Hell, if you had to strip off all your clothes and run around butt naked through a crowded street, you would have done so without complaint. Anything to bring Rowena to safety.   

Parking a few meters away from the tiny, graffiti-painted warehouse, you saw a man leaning against the door nonchalantly, seemingly without a care in the world. The looks on Sam and Dean's faces confirmed it was Lucifer. He was tall, blond, and objectively attractive. You couldn't see him all that well from a distance, but he did seem to look rather handsome. Heaven's – or rather Hell's – Ted Bundy, indeed.   

Sam and Dean went first, with you and Mary finding your way to the back. You waited until you heard voices (for now just fake friendly chatter between enemies before the showdown) before starting to fiddle with the door. Much to your surprise, it wasn't even locked.   

The sight that greeted you when you opened it had seared into your memory. Rowena laid curled up, writhing and trembling in the pool of her own blood. Her dress pants were ripped, showing off welts and cuts on her legs. Lucifer wasn't kidding when he said he whipped them as punishment for her attempted escape. Rage exploded in you and you took a deep breath to keep it at bay. The last thing she needed right now was you throwing another tantrum. She'd been through enough – mainly because of those same tantrums.   

Hearing the door open and your steps approaching her, a whimper escaped her split, bloody lips. "No more," she pleaded, tone uncharacteristically weak. It tore at your heart to see her beg like that. How could that monster break the proud Rowena MacLeod? Seeing her this way was almost unnatural. "Please, no more."   

"Rowena, it's me," you said softly, making slow, cautious steps towards her.    

She weakly looked up at you. "Y/N?"    

You could see her face more clearly now. Freshly opened cuts marred her face, evidence of Lucifer's fury. The corner of her lip was swollen, the color the same deep purple as the rest of her face, a trail of blood trickling out of it down her chin. How many times had he had to punch her to cause that kind of damage?   

Not punch, you realized, giving the injuries another look (cautiously so; staring at someone's wounds was far from polite. The last thing you wanted was for Rowena to think you pitied her). Those were kicks. The bastard had kicked her repeatedly, without a shred of mercy. Judging by the way she was cradling her stomach, you doubted her face was the only part of her body he kicked.   

Clenching your teeth to keep your rising anger at bay, you slowly knelt down next to her, careful not to make any sudden movements as to not startle her.

"It's me, sweetheart," you confirmed, reaching for her hand. Her wrists bore magic-blocking shackles. Looking around, you noticed a chain they used to be attached to hanging loosely from the spider-web-covered ceiling. Her fingers squeezed yours as tight as her state allowed, silently begging you to stay, to never let her out of your sight again. It's not like you planned to, anyway. Not after this. "I'm here to take you home. He will never hurt you again."   

"Oh, my god!" Mary gasped, taking in the extent of Rowena's injuries.   

Rowena twitched and you tightened your grip on her hand. "It's okay," you said in a placating voice. "This is Mary, Sam and Dean's mom. We've all come to save you."   

Giving a nod of acknowledgment, she tried to get up. Noticing her struggle, you threw an arm around her, easing her upright. Leaning against you, she buried her head in the crook of your neck, her bound hands clutching your shirt for dear life. You wasted no second before embracing her, bathing her in warmth and safety of your body. As long as you were here, Lucifer would never lay a hand on her again. You would protect her even at the cost of your own life.   

"I thought I'd never see you again," she said, a bit of strength back in her voice.   

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Never again," you promised, laying a kiss to the top of her head. "Think you can stand?"   

"No." And just like that, weakness was back with a vengeance, laced with shame and insecurity you'd never before heard in her voice. It wasn't her fault Lucifer tortured her. The only one to blame was him. "My legs – he…"   

"I know. I've heard." Instinct prompted you to tighten your hold on her. Rowena was far from an innocent flower, but she didn't deserve this. No one deserved to be tortured like that. "I'm gonna get you better, okay? When we get home, I… I will fix you."   

"Give me a few days and I'll be as good as new," she said almost nonchalantly, as if the bleeding cuts and welts and bruises would heal all on their own. She may have recovered like that back when she was on her own, but now that you were here, you would be damned before you let any of her injuries go untreated. You would care for her more than you would care for yourself.   

"Not on your own, you won't," you said firmly to get your point across.   

She gave a light chuckle. "You underestimate me, dear."   

 _"You_ overestimate yourself, sweetheart," you countered.   

The front doors swinging open silenced her response. She tensed in your arms, gripping your shirt tighter. You shifted to the side to shield her from the threat, mentally readying a few protective spells if need be. A sigh of relief escaped you when Sam and Dean stepped into view, Dean with his shirt wide open, blood still dripping from where he pressed his bloody palm into the banishing sigil.   

"He's gone for now," he said. "But we need to hurry. He could be back anytime." A frown creased his face as his eyes landed on Rowena's injured form, taking in the myriad injuries staining her tiny body. "Holy shit! He did a real number on her."   

"You think?" Rowena snarked, turning to look at the older Winchester. She winced as the movement pulled at one of the cuts, an involuntary hiss escaping her lips. "So many people have come to my rescue. I feel like a celebrity."   

"Yeah, you're a rock star," Dean deadpanned.   

He wasted no time, walking over and scooping her up in his arms with ease. To a strongman like him, she was as light as a feather. You followed after him as he carried her, keeping a hand on her forearm to let her know that you were here, that you weren't leaving her even when the worst has passed. She needed you now more than ever.   

You hopped into Baby's backseat first, helping Dean lower Rowena as painlessly as possible. She gave a few hisses and yelps, but other than that, she managed to make herself quite comfortable (or as comfortable as possible on the backseat of an old car), once again leaning onto you. Putting an arm around her shoulders, you let her lower her head on your shoulder to rest, even for just a bit, until you arrived home.   

Dean went to get something from the trunk and soon reappeared, proudly clutching a small pin. Without a word, he started fiddling with Rowena's cuffs. It didn't take him long to pick open the locks, releasing her raw wrists from their iron cage. The first thing she did, after thanking him, was grab a hold of your free hand, twining her fingers with yours. You held on with the same amount of force, grateful to have her by your side again, the recent argument all but forgotten. You would talk and properly apologize to her later. The only thing that mattered now was getting her to the safety of your warded apartment and taking care of her injuries.   

Sam and Dean climbed in the front, taking their respective seats, while Mary joined you on the backseat. She offered you a small battle of water. Thanking her, you handed it to Rowena, who gulped the entire thing down in one long swing. The poor thing hadn't had a sip in days. The thought tugged at your heart, prompting you to lay a kiss to her cheek, just below a cut that had only recently stopped bleeding.   

"Hungry?" you asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.  

"Starving," she said.   

"I'll get you something to eat when we get home. Want anything in particular?"   

A determined look crossed her face, as if she was waiting for you to ask this question. Rowena wasn't a big eater, but being starved for three days would make anyone think about food. "Filet Mignon."  

"Nothing but the best for you," you teased.  

"Always, darling."   

You kissed her again, shifting in your seat to help her nestle against you more comfortably. Your arm remained around her for the entirety of the drive, the pads of your fingers gently pressing into the soft flesh of her shoulder blade. Your wordless way of telling her that she was safe with you, that you would be here and protect her at all costs.  

Rowena closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax under your touch. She trusted the safety you provided. She was more powerful than you would ever be and her pride rivaled that immense power, yet she trusted that you would keep her safe if any danger was to arise. The sentiment brought tears to your eyes and it took all your willpower to hold them back. Rowena didn't trust easily, and here she was, trusting you with her life.  

Parking the car, the brothers took a sweep to make sure the coast was clear of any of Lucifer's groupies (your place was warded, but you could never know what nasty trick the archangel had up his sleeve) before giving you the go ahead to come out.  

Once again, Dean took Rowena into his arms. The three Winchesters followed after you as you led them to your small apartment. It was far from the luxurious hotel rooms Rowena was used to, but it was home. The witch, despite her proud nature, loved the little place. It was the only place she could call home in centuries and, most important of all, it was safe. The heavy warding you secured it with made it practically invisible to supernatural creatures. If any were to find it despite that and wished to enter, they needed your permission.  

You had Dean lay Rowena on the couch in the living room while you rushed to fill her a glass of water. Just like the water bottle, she downed it in one go, panting heavily. Your heart broke at the sight of her, so desperate for something as common as water. Lucifer would pay for everything he's done to her. You would personally make sure of it.  

"More?" you asked.  

She shook her head. "I'm good."  

"I have to go for a bit. I'll be right back."  

You squeezed her hand as you spoke. Even the thought of leaving her alone at a time like this, after everything she'd been through, sent cold chills down your spine. Actually doing it hurt; it physically hurt to let go of her hand and disappear into the bedroom. You knew that she would be safe. The Winchesters wouldn't let anything happen to her, and they sure as hell wouldn't hurt her. Not now that she'd become their ally. But you wouldn't be there to keep an eye on her and make sure she was unharmed.  

Turning on your computer, you quickly scribbled on a prescription, printing it out as fast as your printer allowed. Walking back into the living room, you quickly eyed Rowena and sighed in relief at finding her the same way you left her. She was in visible pain, yet she still had it in her to sass the Winchester brothers, much to their annoyance. A small smile grazed your lips. Lucifer could break her body, but he could never break her spirit. Underneath the wounds and blood she was still Rowena, the sassy, tough, powerful witch you fell in love with.  

"I need one of you to go to the pharmacy," you said, cutting off their banter.  

"I'll do it," Sam offered.  

"Darling, I can make potions stronger than your medicine," Rowena said.  

"You're not making anything in your state," you told her.  

She rolled her eyes in that overly dramatic way that was practically her signature. "Is that a challenge?"  

You sighed, not in the mood for this. Couldn't she once, just once, accept your help without unnecessary commentary? "Must everything be an argument with you?"  

"Yes, it must," she said without missing a beat.  

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Sweetheart, I love you and I appreciate your input, but you really don't have a say here." You handed Sam the fake prescriptions, insurance, and credit card. When he nodded, you turned to Dean. "Can you go get us some food, please?"  

"Sure," the elder Winchester said. "Got any preferences?" 

You gave him another paper, this one with instructions on what you and Rowena wanted and exactly how you wanted it. You could eat your steak any way, but you pointed out loud and clear that Rowena's Filet Mignon had to be prepared exactly the way you'd written.  

"Picky," Dean commented, shooting Rowena a look.  

She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's called having class. Not that I'd expect the likes of you to understand it."  

"It's called being extra. You'd know all about it," Dean retorted. 

Rowena rolled her eyes while he and Sam exited, each headed to their designated location. Turning to look at her, you gave her a loving smile. Her ability to stay her classy self in spite of her injuries brought you some relief. She was still your proud, sassy Rowena. Lucifer's torture couldn't bring her down. She may have been weak, but she was also strong – stronger than the devil could ever imagine. He may have broken her body, but he could never break her soul. 

While you were waiting for the boys to return, you had Mary help you gather the ingredients for the healing potion. It would still take time for Rowena's injuries to heal, but with the help of this potion, instead of weeks, it would take mere days, a week tops. 

Leaving the potion to cook on the stove, you brought a chair next to the couch and sat down beside Rowena. Taking her hand, you laid a kiss to her knuckles, then squeezed it as hard as you could – your silent way of telling her you would get through this together, like you always did. The devil couldn't beat you when you had each other. 

It was hard to look at her like that, covered in bruises and welts, almost every inch of her skin a dark purple or scarlet red. But you didn't dare avert your eyes. As proud as Rowena was, your refusal to look at her would kill her. Looking at her hurt, but, you reminded yourself, it was her who had to bear those injuries. She was the one who suffered for days, the one who endured beatings and whippings and violence you couldn't even bring yourself to imagine. She was the survivor of Lucifer's abuse, not you. 

"Mind running me a bath? I reek," Rowena said quietly, looking at Mary from the corner of her eye to make sure she wasn't listening. 

You were grateful mother Winchester gave you some privacy, opting to sit at the kitchen table and drink the Coca Cola you'd given her, completely ignoring you and Rowena in favor of the phone in her hand. 

"When Sam returns with the medicine, okay?" 

Rowena nodded. "Is the potion done?" 

"Give it a few more minutes," you replied. "Is there anything I can do for you? I know there isn't much, but if I can help in _any_ way…" 

"You already are." She squeezed your hand back. 

"I love you," you whispered. 

She nodded in acknowledgment of your words. "Me, too."

You stayed that way for what seemed like eternity, but in reality it was only about fifteen minutes. Neither of you said anything. Rather, you both enjoyed the silence, your linked hands holding onto one another for dear life, as if loosening the drip would make the other disappear. You never should have called her those names. You never should have said all the things you'd said. You never should have let her walk out that door. 

 _"Fine! Go! That's what you always do, isn't it? You didn't want to be a mother, so you left. You didn't want to face your enemies, so you ran._ For centuries! _And now you can't talk to me, so you're going away. It's your go to solution for everything! You're a coward, Rowena. You couldn't let yourself love your son, and you can't let yourself love me! What even is the point of this relationship? If you wanna leave, just leave. I'm not standing in your way. In fact, I think I'll be better off without you."_  

The harsh words stung. You couldn't even imagine what Rowena felt like, hearing you scream them at her. Once you were all alone, you would explain. You would tell her how sorry you are and beg for her forgiveness. You hadn't meant a single thing you'd said. You were just so angry – angry at her, at yourself, at the argument that had gotten way out of control. 

One thing was for sure – you would never make the same mistake again. This had been a lesson for you. You could never know which enemies lurked about, ready to strike when you least expect it. Rowena had suffered enough. You would rather die than let it happen again. Leaning down, you laid a kiss to the tip of her nose. You would take the best care of her, you promised yourself. You would do everything in your power to make her recovery as swift and comfortable as possible. She would have everything she needed and desired. You would make it up to her. And after she recovered, you would never leave her side again. 

You quickly left her side to take the now finished potion off the stove. Hurriedly pouring it into a cup, you rushed back to sit by Rowena's side, hating every moment of leaving her. The rational part of you told you no harm would come her way; the apartment was warded, and Mary had no intention of hurting her in any way. But the irrational, worried part was the loudest, screaming about possible danger. After the past few days, you couldn't take your chances. 

You left the potion at the small coffee table by the couch to cool off. Rowena struggled to sit up, her bruised arms shaking under the weight of her body. Moving to sit on the couch, you helped her up. She nestled into you, allowing you to wrap your arms around her, your fingers playing with the tips of her dirty, blood-soaked hair. It would take a while to clean her up. Dry blood was everywhere, covering almost every inch of her skin. The worst were her various injuries. You would have to take care not to hurt her – too much at least. Hurting her was inevitable, given her state – while cleaning her. 

Not long after that, the Winchester brothers returned, each carrying their respective items. You thanked them, making sure to give each a tight hug to let them know how much you appreciated what they've done for you today. If it weren't for them, would have never been able to rescue Rowena. You owed them for a lifetime.

The boys refused your offer of a drink, opting to leave you and Rowena on your own. They've done all they could for you, and they knew how proud she could be. Just like she didn't want to be vulnerable in front of them, they didn't want to see it. They might not have been her biggest fans, but they respected that. 

Giving them your gratitude one last time, the three departed, heading back home. Against your wishes, Rowena promised she would be there when they caught Lucifer to send his feathery ass back to the cage. You weren't too fond of the idea of her getting anywhere near him again, but there was no dissuading her when she was this determined. The one thing you could do, though, was let her know, loud and clear, that she wasn't doing anything until she recovered. There was no way you were letting her cast complicated spells in her current state. 

As soon as the Winchesters were gone, you'd given her a painkiller. The ones you'd had Sam get were strong. Given her condition, you didn't want to take any chances. Your girl wasn't going to be in pain on your watch. After that you put the food on the coffee table, supplying her with wet wipes to clean her dirty hands. The two of you ate in silence, neither speaking a word until after you cleaned up the table, discarding the dirty dishes in the sink to be taken care of later – whenever that may be. 

"Want me to take care of your wounds now or later?" you asked, sitting back down next to Rowena, who sighed. 

"I want a bath first," she said, decisiveness clear in her tone. 

"It will hurt," you told her. You couldn't even imagine what it would feel like if shampoo was to get into those fresh, open cuts on her legs and cheeks. Anger burned in you as the image of Lucifer maniacally striking her flashed in your mind, subsiding only when you looked up and found her eyes on you. 

"Darling," she said, lips turning upwards to form a wry smile, "I have been tortured for three days by the devil himself. A bit of a shampoo burn cannot compare. Besides, the pill you gave me is working just fine. I won't even feel it." 

"Alright," you gave in, not having it in you to argue with her in this state. She had a point. The weak pain of hot water and shampoo couldn't compare to the tortures Lucifer had inflicted on her. But still, you hated the thought of hurting her in any way. Even if it was to help her and she would barely feel it, the fact that it would be you doing it to her remained. You couldn't help feeling a little bit angry at yourself. If only there was a way to heal her completely without making her go through all that. "But if at any point it becomes too much–"

"I will let you know," she finished, smiling up at you. Even bruised and battered, her smile was as beautiful as it always was. It was one of the things Lucifer could never take from her. 

Handing her the now cool healing potion, you left her to prepare a bath, discomfort at leaving her on her own returning stronger than ever. Once the bath was ready, you helped Rowena to the bathroom. Her legs and stomach still hurt, but the painkiller had thankfully numbed the worst of it down, allowing her to walk. Her steps were slow and she leaned heavily onto you, but it was better than not being able to move. 

The tub was big, luxurious, the most expensive piece of furniture you owed. When Rowena agreed to move in, her only condition was that you get a big tub for her to enjoy herself in. She didn't mind that the apartment was small and far from the opulent hotel rooms she was accustomed to. She could live with everything except a tiny tub.

Helping her undress, you sat her down in the warm water, pushing back the gasp that threatened to rip from your mouth at the sight dark purple bruises covering every inch of her skin. Stripping off your own clothes, you sat behind her, positioning her between your open legs. You found yourself grateful for her choice of a bathtub. You could never be able to do this in your old, tiny-ass tub. Luxury, it seems, had its perks in terms of need rather than want. 

You made sure to wash her with utmost care, doing your best not to further aggravate her injuries. Rowena stayed silent while you cleaned her, not uttering a word of protest when you would accidentally press too hard on a bruise or brush against a cut. It took some time to wash away all the caked blood from her body and hair, but once it was over, you were quite happy with your success. Rowena finally looked like herself again, sans her wounds. 

Drying her off, you led her to the bedroom, seating her on the bed while you went to search for the first aid kit. She let you dress her wounds without complaint, hissing only once when you accidentally wrapped a bandage too tightly over a cut. You couldn't do much for her bruises other than rub healing salve over them and hope it, combined with the potion, speeds up her healing process. 

After you were done, you helped her put on a nightie and tucked her into bed, returning the first aid kit back to its respective place before putting on your own sleepwear, consisting of an undershirt and panties, and crawling under the covers to join her. Rowena immediately curled up into you, leaning her head against your chest. Instinctively, you put your arms around her, wrapping her up in a secure hug.

Contemplating for what seemed like forever, you finally decided to break the silence that had fallen around you. As much as you enjoyed just laying there, the only sound echoing that of your synchronized heartbeats, you needed to get this out of your system. It had, after all, been the entire cause of this mess. Rowena may have gone away, but it was you who basically threw her out.

"Wena?" you said softly, your fingers lightly tapping the top of her hand. Her skin was soft and smooth under your touch, a contrast to yours. It was little things like this that reminded you how much of a lady she was. She was tiny and cute, but that small form held class you couldn't even imagine. Everything about her was regal. From her poise, to those curly, fire-red locks, to her – currently blood red – nails, always manicured and pedicured and on point. Her accent reeked of charm not many possessed. She may have come from nothing, but she had everything.

"Hm?" She stirred, shifting closer to get more comfortable.

You took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. Apologizing is never easy, especially when the thing you're apologizing for is what led the person you're apologizing to straight into the arms of a vindictive, merciless sadist. "I'm sorry."

She stiffened, but quickly resumed her composure. "You already said it."

"I'm saying it to your face now."

"Let it go," she told you.

Tears prickles at your eyes. If only letting go were that easy. She may have been okay with getting tortured because of you, but it was you who had to live with the guilt. "I never should have let you walk out that door," you said. A single tear slid down your cheek. "You got hurt because of me."

"I got hurt because I played with fire," Rowena said firmly. "It was only a matter of time before I got burned."

Only she had gotten burned more than once already. "I said some bad things."

"So did I," she said.

"Yeah, but–"

"Darling," she cut you off, wincing in pain as she raised up on her elbows to look you in the eyes, "stop this nonsense, will you? We're safe, we're together, and that's all that matters. Quite frankly, I don't want to be reminded of what went on before today. I think you can imagine why. So just let it go."

"Okay," you gave in. Rowena had a point. The past was the past. Apologies couldn't change it. Wishing things were different couldn't change it. Whatever happened, it would remain the same. The future, on the other hand, could still be shaped. As ugly as the past was, you could make the future hundreds of times better. "You're right." You pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before guiding her with your hands to lie back down, wrapping your arms around her once more. "I'm an idiot."

"Not the word I would use," Rowena said teasingly. "I think 'stubborn' suits you better."

You couldn't argue with that. "True." Playing with the tips of her hair, you said: "Have I told you I love you today?"

"You have."

"Can I tell you again?"

"If you must," she said with what was supposed to be nonchalance, but you knew she would never tire of hearing you say it. After centuries of solitude, she appreciated having someone cherish her, someone who would always put her first and love her more than anything in the world.

"I love you, Rowena," you said. Gently moving her off your chest, you turned on your side, pressing your forehead to hers. Putting an arm around her, you moved a lock of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear to allow you to look her in the eyes. "I'm gonna keep you safe. He will never hurt you again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she told you. Even after everything you've been through together, she still couldn't fathom how someone could love her to the point of sacrificing themselves for her. Centuries of betrayal and solitude had taught her to depend on no one and to always expect the worst, even from those who wished her the best. She'd learned to take care of herself, to depend on nothing but her own power.

"I can and I will," you said decisively, linking your hand with hers. She wasn't alone anymore. She had you now, and you would be damned before you let anything happen to her again. Just because she couldn't defeat the devil on her own didn't mean you couldn't try together. You would most likely fail – defeating an archangel, especially one such as Lucifer, is far from an easy feat – but you would do your best to make sure Rowena was unharmed. He could do whatever he wanted to you, but she was off limits. He would never lay a hand on her again.

"You're a fool," she said, a tinge of gratitude in her tone. She could pretend all she wanted, but you knew she loved being someone's number one after all this time. She may have been a big, bad witch, but she was also a human being. A human being with needs and desires, just like everyone else. She needed you, no matter how hard she tried to mask it with pride and nonchalance. She needed you to love her, to take care of her and hold her and make promises you would never break.

And you were all too happy to deliver.

"I don't care," you responded. "I'm gonna protect you, no matter what. I love you. I'll always love you. If that makes me a fool, so be it. I'm the happiest fool in the world."

Eyes filling up with tears she willed not to fall, she gave a light shake of her head. "Bloody sap." 

"That's me, sweetheart." You smiled, which prompted her to pull on a smile of her own. " Get some rest now, okay? I can keep being sappy in the morning." 

"Don't you dare," she said, snuggling closer to you.

Laying a kiss to her forehead, you secured her in one-armed hug, holding her as tight as you could, careful not to put too much pressure on her injuries. It didn't take long for her to relax and drift off to sleep, hopefully uninterrupted by nightmares. Even if there were any, you told yourself, you would be here to chase them away. You would always be here for her, no matter what.

You waited for a bit to make sure her dreams were undisturbed. Once you were convinced she was at peace, you closed your eyes, sinking into dreams of your own. Dreams that, no matter how fluffy and charming, could never compare to the feel of Rowena in your arms, safe from harm, yours to love until the very end.

**Author's Note:**

> Editor: [OswinTheStrange](http://archiveofourown.org/users/OswinTheStrange/).


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